So Long Ago
by ChibiQuatre
Summary: kawaii, IMHO. well, tell me whatcha think, k? that means review s, every1! ::laughs maniacally:: muahahahaha!!! ^_~ oh ya, btw, it's Trowa/Quatre again...heh. ja!!!


So Long Ago  
by ChibiQuatre(7/11/00)  
  
  
Yet another GW disclaimer: well, do you all REALLY want me to write a disclaimer?! We all know that I don't own GW (though God KNOWS I wish I did!). The GW boyz r'nt mine, never were, never will b. They are owned by their respective creators; Sunrise, There...happy!!! ((oh, and any trouble translating the japanese, I'll b happy to help!))  
  
*A/N: this is in an AU ficcie...and *gasp* it's a yaoi! ::'AIIIIIIEE!!!' someone screams in the distance:: yaoi-haters should leave now, k? [i feel it's a good thing that we can reach a level of understanding together ^^] surprise, surprise, it's a Trowa/Quatre ficcie (my fav. characters, duh!) it might b confusing, since there'll b flashbacks as well as 3rd person and Trowa POVs, but ur all big enough 2 figure it out! tell me whatcha think!! (and pleez b nice ^_^*)  
  
  
"For you!"  
  
Trowa looked at the hand, so small and pale, holding out the flower to him.   
  
"Uh, arigatou," he muttered. He reached his own tiny, calloused hand and gently  
took the thin green stem between his fingers, bringing the red flower up to his  
button nose and sniffing. "It smells wonderful!" he said in a wondrous voice.  
  
The blond child in front of him smiled broadly. "I'm glad you like it! It came from  
my very own garden!" he said cheerily. Trowa nodded.  
  
From the distance, someone called. The blond turned around at the noise, then  
hurriedly turned back. "I've got to go now." His big blue eyes had grown large  
and melancholy. "Don't forget me."  
  
Trowa shook his stubborn little head. "Don't go. Stay with me."  
  
"I can't," came the forlorn reply. "My father is a harsh man. I must go now." He  
turned to run towards the voices.  
  
"Wait!" yelled Trowa. "I don't know your name yet."  
  
But the blond continued running, the wind drowning out Trowa's question.  
  


***  


  
Trowa sighed, lying backwards in the tall green grass. It was so rare to find  
anything green, especially in the dry and barren desert.   
  
In fact, the only place something so green and full of life could be found was  
here, in Quatre's own backyard. Well, and in oasis.'  
  
But oasis' had long since disappeared off the face of the Earth. With the settling  
of the colonies, times and people had changed drastically. And almost two  
hundred years later, a war had broken out, throwing space and Earth into a  
battle once again.  
  
Trowa turned his head sideways, his visible eye catching a glimmer of red.  
  
Quatre, you always did love roses.  
  


***  


  
As if on cue, Quatre appeared on the balcony. From my position on the ground, I  
could see Quatre clearly without actually being seen myself.   
  
The blond threw out some birdseed, some of which landed on the balcony, some  
of which landed on the grass beside me. As of late, he had taken on to birds. I  
smiled.  
  
Kind to birds, kind to animals, and especially kind to people.  
  
I looked up at him in wonder; so youthful, so understanding for his age. By far,  
he was the most empathic of us Gundam pilots, and so virtuous! Not once have I  
known him to be rude and offensive, not even to the enemy. He was so kind and  
generous, willing to sacrifice his life for those he cares for.  
  
Sweet little Quatre.  
  
I blinked hard as a piece of birdseed bounced off the plush grass and landed in  
my visible eye. My eye in pain, I jumped up quickly, a little too quickly in fact,  
and lost my balance, tumbling into the bushes growing just outside the first-story  
window.   
  
I stood up slowly this time, using the windowsill for support, lest I fall again. Even  
with my constant movement, the bit of birdseed was still lodged in my left eye. I  
let out a deep breath and rubbed at it with an index finger. After seconds of  
prolonged, frantic rubbing, I managed to remove the fragment. It still managed to  
irritate my eye; I could have yelled in annoyance. Maybe I was just allergic to  
birdseed.  
  
However, remembering my object of observation, I bit my tongue and glanced  
upwards at the balcony. The Arabian had disappeared. Pigeons, doves, and  
other various birds were flocking around the fallen seed, but Quatre had left the  
perch.  
  
I looked around, hoping he hadn't come into the garden. My hopes were granted.  
The entire yard was empty, except for me and the birds.  
  
Yep, just me and the birds.  
  
My eye was starting to itch, and my rubbing it wasn't doing any good. I walked to  
the glass door and slipped inside the mansion, where a cool gust welcomed me.  
The air conditioning was cranked all the way up; I mean, out here in the desert,  
every day is in need of air conditioning.  
  
I walked into the kitchen, still rubbing my now sore eye. Quatre looked up from  
his tea. "Trowa?" he asked, surveying me warily. I looked down at myself.  
Whoops. I should've cleaned up before I came in. I had received numerous  
scratches from the bushes I had landed in earlier, and my jeans were a little  
muddy from the fall. Just a touch of birdseed complimented the picture.  
  
"Uh, ohayo. Genki desu ka?" I said, as if nothing had happened.  
  
He chuckled at me. "What happened?"  
  
I blushed. "Nothing. What are you doing?" I asked, indicating the book he was  
still holding in his hand.  
  
"Oh, this?" It was Quatre's turn to look embarrassed. "Nothing."  
  
I shrugged it off, just glad that he didn't question my appearances any further. I   
was about to sit down, but Quatre was still staring at me. I decided against it.  
"Uh, I'm going upstairs to clean up."  
  
He smiled, nodded approvingly, as I walked up the stairs to my room.  
  


***  


  
He had found him!  
  
At long last, Trowa had found the blond-haired child from so long ago who had  
been incredibly willing to offer him friendship.  
  
The face was different, longer, and not so babyish, and the voice was not so  
childish as well, but the hair and the eyes were exactly the same.  
  
Funny, how that one incident had remained in his mind forever: they had met on  
a hill after Trowa's very first carnival act. It had been performed flawlessly, and  
Trowa was staring at the sunset, silently enjoying his victory. Suddenly, a little  
blond with jewel-like eyes came up behind him.  
  
"Congratulations on a wonderful performance!" the little voice rang out, startling  
Trowa out of his reverie.   
  
At first, he was angry. He liked to be alone sometimes. But the blond was so  
cheerful that he just couldn't resist talking with him, even for a little while.  
Besides, his hair was so golden, just like the color of the clouds at sunset, the  
color they were turning at that very instant. And his eyes were so blue, bluer than  
any sky and any sapphire.  
  
He would recognize him anywhere.  
  
They talked for a mere three minutes before the blond had to leave. Trowa  
begged him to stay and be his friend, but his pleas went unheard as the wind  
picked up and wisked his new friend away.   
  
He was a beautiful boy -- not just because he looked like an angel, but because  
he was so kind as well. He was beautiful on the inside.  
  
And he hadn't even gotten his name.  
  
Now, almost ten years later, Trowa knew his name; Quatre Raberba Winner: one  
of the thirty total Winner children of Saudi Arabia, but the only boy child and the  
only real heir to the prestigious Winner Foundation and all its wealth.   
  
He was Pilot 04 of the Gundam Sandrock.  
  
His heart screamed to him the moment they met outside the Gundam cockpits.  
'That's him! That's him!' it said. He had ignored it and took the situation in calm,  
almost stoic strides.  
  
But he was certain that Quatre who had stood on the hill with him years before,  
presenting him with one single, large rose before he left.   
  
A rose that would become the symbol of their neverending friendship and  
Trowa's search for the one he adored.   
  
The one he loved.  
  


***  


  
I turned on the shower and grabbed a nearby bar of soap. That's another  
thing...where on Earth would anyone find such an abundance of water and soap  
in the desert? It was amazing.  
  
After a few minutes, I decided I had wasted enough water. After several more  
minutes of searching through my closet, I gave up. I had tossed my green  
turtleneck sweater and pale-blue jeans into the hamper to be washed.  
Unfortunately, my closet held nothing more than a thick jacket and disguises that  
were used in our various raids on OZ bases.  
  
Damn.  
  
Still wearing my towel, I slunk downstairs, barely avoiding Rashid as he came  
upstairs. I breathed a sigh of relief when the big man passed, and tiptoed my  
way into the kitchen. I poked my head through the doorway. Quatre was still  
sipping his tea, so immersed in his book that he failed to see me.  
  
"Uh, Quatre?" I asked sheepishly.   
  
My voice broke the silence of the kitchen. Quatre looked up, quite surprised at  
my voice, which seemed to float up out of nowhere. He located my face, which  
was still poking around the corner, and let out a relieved sigh. "What is it,  
Trowa?"  
  
"I, uh -- I..." This was embarrassing! "Well, I was wondering if I could borrow a  
robe, or something."  
  
Quatre looked confused for a minute, then stood up and walked to where I was  
standing. Only then did he see my predicament. His face flushed an intense  
scarlet. "Oh! Uh, yeah sure. Just follow me," he said.  
  
We walked back up the stairs and down the hall to Quatre's bedroom. He  
proceeded towards the closet, and seconds later, emerged holding a copper  
colored robe. He tossed it at me. "You can use this," he said, grinning.  
  
I caught it with ease and made my way into his bathroom. He made room for me  
and waited outside while I changed.   
  
It was a beautiful robe. Not made of terry cloth, like ordinary shower robes; this  
was pure silk, of the highest quality. The copper surface shimmered under the  
unusually bright fluorescent lights. It changed from copper to gold to ruddy tan  
and back to copper again. I ran my hand over it's satiny exterior, admiring it with  
an awestruck wonder. Suddenly, I stopped. My hand ran over something bumpy,  
not at all natural on the silk.  
  
I turned it over to reveal a pair of monogramed letters: TB.  
  
TB? As in Trowa Barton?? Masaka!  
  
I searched my mind for anyone else who would have borrowed Quatre's clothes,  
or who would carry the initials 'TB.'   
  
Nothing.  
  
I could think of no one.  
  
But then, if Quatre had prepared it for me...how had he known that I'd need a  
change of clothes?  
  
Curious, I slipped the robe on.   
  
Perfect fit.  
  
But I was at least a head taller than Quatre. The robe fell all the way to my  
ankles, making it an improbable fit for the small blond to wear.  
  
So how...?  
  
There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Anou, Trowa? Are you okay in  
there?" Quatre's concerned voice floated past the door.  
  
"Aa," I answered, tying the belt together. No doubt about it...Quatre had gotten it  
for me. I took one last look in the mirror. The copper really accented my hair; it  
was something the blond would have paid attention to, I'm sure.   
  
When I opened the door, Quatre had his back turned to me. He was rubbing the  
back of his head with his right hand and holding something in his left. "Hmmm,"  
he murmured thoughtfully.  
  
"Hmmm what?" I asked.   
  
He jumped, then turned around to face me, a blush spreading across his face  
and his arms going behind his back. Almost immediately, he smiled. "Trowa!"  
  
I nodded. "How do I look?" I asked, still a bit embarrassed. He beamed at me in  
reply. "Uh, Quatre?"  
  
"Yes?" he responded, moving to his nightstand and putting something down  
behind him. It fell with a 'clack.' I looked at him curiously, but continued: "Ne,  
where did you get this robe?"  
  
"Oh. I had it specially made. The tailor couldn't do it right, so we all contributed a  
little -- the Maguanacs, Rashid, and me. Why do you ask? Do you like it?"  
Quatre babbled on nervously.  
  
"It's very nice," was all I said. The blond happily accepted the answer, knowing  
that he wouldn't get much else out of me. I found myself fingering the  
silver-tailored monogram lettering once more.  
  
"I'll go to your room and clean out the hamper right away." Quatre started for the  
door.  
  
Still a bit intrigued, I lagged behind. "Uhm, I need to use your bathroom. Do you  
mind?" I hated lying, especially to him.  
  
He stopped and looked at me, smiling generously. "Sure, no problem. Go right  
ahead." Then he closed the door behind him.  
  
I felt ashamed, but my curiosity was getting the best of me. You know what they  
say: 'Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.' I had to see what  
Quatre was looking at before I came out of the bathroom.  
  
I walked over to his nightstand. Ordinary nightstandish stuff: alarm clock, phone,  
lamp, picture frame, a few stray pens. Nothing seemed strange or out of place.  
Yep, just an ordinary nightstand --  
  
I laughed at myself for ever being suspicious of Quatre and was about to turn  
away when something caught my eye. I had moved so that part of the picture  
was visible. I turned back to the silver frame and picked it up.  
  
I was surprised. It was a picture of Quatre and me, dueting. He was sitting on the  
armchair and I was across from him on the sofa. I didn't remember ever taking  
such a picture. And such a perfect picture at that! One of the others, presumably  
Duo, had probably taken it when we weren't paying attention.   
  
I would have to compliment the photographer.   
  
And the frame was almost as lovely as the picture itself. It was pure silver,  
judging by its weight and appearance, and its surface was delicately carved with  
various autumn leaves and ribbons, which interwove between the inside edge  
and the outside edge of the frame.  
  
Just lovely.  
  
My brow narrowed as I thought hard, my heart arguing with my head. Where did  
Quatre get this?  
  
It doesn't matter.  
  
But it does! He was looking at it right after he gave me the robe.  
  
So what?  
  
Soooo...it's possible!  
  
No it's not.  
  
Yes it is!!  
  
......Well then, let's just see about that.  
  


***  


  
I walked down the stairs, still carrying the photo frame, to find Quatre submerged  
in his book once more.  
  
This was getting annoying. Finding the courage to interrupt him was difficult,  
especially if everytime I wanted to talk to him, he had his nose stuck in a book.  
  
"Ahem," I cleared my throat. He looked up and smiled at me. "What is it, Trowa?"  
  
I walked directly behind him and closed his book. "Hey --" he started to protest,  
but I placed a hand on his shoulder. With my other, I brought out the picture,  
which was previously hidden behind my back, and stuck it in front of his face.  
  
He gasped softly. "Trowa, where did you -- "  
  
I had expected him to act surprised. "Let's just say it caught my attention on my  
way out of the bathroom," I said softly.   
  
Quatre looked at it for a moment. Suddenly, he jumped up. "You," he pointed a  
hurt finger at me, "you went through my things?!" His voice took on the tone of  
incredulity.  
  
I shook my head, suddenly apprehensive. "No!" I said. "It was just sitting on your  
nightstand."  
  
He looked like he still didn't believe me. "You had no right..." he began.  
  
I put the picture on the table beside the book. "I know. I'm sorry, little one. I was  
just curious, that's all."  
  
He started fuming. I sighed; arguing was getting us nowhere. So I decided to  
take on a different approach.  
  
"Do you remember," I said softly, "about ten years ago, you went to the  
carnival?"  
  
"Huh?" Quatre asked, surprised at my sudden change of topic.  
  
"You don't, do you?" I asked sadly. Before he had a chance to answer, I plowed  
ahead. "You met me at the carnival, Quatre. We talked on top of the hill; you told  
me about your father. Your harsh father." I paused, seeing Quatre's eyes grow  
wide at the mention of his dead father. "We watched the sunset together. It was  
the color of your hair."  
  
Quatre broke in hurriedly. "A rose." I looked at him, not certain of what I heard.   
  
"I gave you a rose," he insisted. "It was red, and it came from," he thought for a  
second, "'my very own garden,'" he quoted himself.  
  
I smiled. So he did remember! "And then you ran off because someone was  
calling you."  
  
He smiled in return. "Rashid." I nodded.  
  
Quatre's eyes looked heavenward. "So long ago..." he whispered.  
  
Yes, so very long ago. But I still remember.  
  
"Trowa," Quatre said, once again pulling me out of my memories. He was  
smiling. "Funny how fate works, ne?"  
  
"Aa," I answered, not quite sure of what he meant.   
  
He sensed my confusion and explained. "I mean, so many years later, I finally  
found you again, Trowa." I whipped my eyes towards him. He slapped his hand  
over his mouth, his eyes widening.   
  
"You mean, you were looking too?"  
  
Slowly, the hand uncovered the mouth and he nodded slowly, his frightened  
eyes never leaving my face.  
  
I raised a hand signalling a truce. Something else had caught my eye. It was  
Quatre's book.  
  
It was still lying on the table, right beside the photo, but it was the first time I had  
actually seen the title. "Love's Dark Side?" I looked at Quatre questioningly.  
  
He blushed redly. "Uh, yeah. Duo lent it to me." Duo loved that kind of stuff, but I  
never imagined that Quatre enjoyed love stories.  
  
I raised an eyebrow. "What's it about?" I asked with genuine interest.  
  
Quatre sighed. "Well, according to Duo, it was a film made in the late 1970's. It's  
the story of an executive who is blinded after a gun fight and is befriended by an  
entertainer. They eventually fall in love, I think."  
  
"I see." Interesting. I closed my eyes. Several moments of prolonged silence  
passed. "How did you know it was me?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.  
So I was surprised when I got one.  
  
I opened my eyes to see Quatre snuggle up to my shoulder. A few seconds later,  
he drew back, a soft smile on his lowered face, to reveal his left hand covering  
his heart.  
  
With his free hand, he raised it up to me and placed it on my chest, feeling my  
own faint heartbeat under the copper robe. I looked at him questioningly.  
  
He met my gaze, still smiling. "There's your answer," he said.  
  
I smiled at him. How intriguing this boy was. After so many long years, he had  
remembered the friendship we forged from a single red rose. I wrapped my arms  
around his shoulders, drawing him closer until I had him in a tight embrace.  
  
He continued to snuggle up to me, then lifted his head. "Trowa..." he started.  
  
"Shhh," I said, bending down to give him a long kiss on the lips. I already knew  
what he wanted to say; I knew it was the exact same thing that I was thinking,  
that I had been thinking ever since we met. He didn't need to say it.  
  
I loved him too.  
  
  
~OWARI~  
  
  
aww how kewt! lol well, whatcha all think? ya like? ::holds hands to ear:: well speak up minna-san! ::shakes her head:: sorry, i can't hear u. guess u'll just hafta rate n review! don't 4get, comments, questions, and suggestions r always welcome. jaaa!!! ^^  
  
oh ya...and that story, "Love's Dark Side," is a real movie. it was made in 1978, but i'm not sure about the plot. if anyone has any info on it or has seen it and recognized something i put in this ficcie is wrong, pleez tell me so i can correct my mistakes! arigatou!!  
  
ChibiQuatre @ tigerlily6c@aol.com


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